Evening. 6am. The team returned from the mission back to base.

The command room was lit by the cold glow of holographic panels. The tactical table still displayed the schematic of the latest operation.

Prowl stood at the console, quickly scrolling through the data.

"Your trajectory was too risky," — his voice was even, but tense. — "Two more seconds and…"

You took a step closer.

"And the mission would have failed," — you finished calmly for him. — "But it wasn't."

Another step.

Prowl raised his optics. Too late to keep his distance.

"That doesn't change the fact that you exposed yourself…"

You abruptly, but without aggression, braced your manipulators on either side of him, pinning him between you and the edge of the tactical table.

The metal clanked softly under the weight.

The distance between you had become dangerously small.

"…yourself," — you repeated quietly. — "Or are you just angry because I did everything right?"

Prowl froze. Not because he couldn't move. But because he didn't want to.

His voice deepened.

"You're violating several protocols right now."

He didn't try to pull away. His optics slid over your face, lingering longer than officer regulations allowed.

"Then put me on the report," — you replied. — "As a 'threat to discipline.'"

In the corner of the room, Bumblebee whispered to Bulkhead.

"I bet you ten bucks that Prowl is either going to explode or..."

"Or forgets he's an officer," — Bulkhead finished.

Prowl exhaled quietly.

"You're playing with fire."

He leaned forward slightly, leaving mere centimeters between you.

"And you know perfectly well I don't like that."

Pause.

"…That’s exactly why you do this."